


I Pledge Allegiance

by monimala



Category: Scandal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gap Filler, M/M, POV Male Character, Rape/Non-con Elements, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-25
Updated: 2013-10-25
Packaged: 2017-12-30 11:39:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1018168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monimala/pseuds/monimala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set right after 3x04, "Say Hello to My Little Friend." <i>He tastes Fitz on her mouth. It's impossible not to.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	I Pledge Allegiance

He tastes Fitz on her mouth. It's impossible not to. Under the tartness of the wine, the softness of her skin, there is the brand that another man—the _only_ man—left there. Property of President Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III. It's a burning and bitter tattoo on the sexy swell of her upper lip, and she has similar marks of possession all over her body. Places too hallowed for him to touch, too sanctified for him to kiss, to fuck into oblivion. But he does it anyway. He kisses her. He touches her. Because she is so alone, and so is he, and it's been a long time since he's felt the sun on his face.

Jake stopped believing in happily ever after two lifetimes ago. But he believed in Olivia Pope every day he was in the Hole. Every time they hit him. Every time they yanked down his pants. For every finger they broke, every rib they cracked, he believed in her that much more. And all he prays to now is her eyes. _Look at me_ , he wants to beg her. _Look at me the way I know you look at him_. Of course she doesn't. And he doesn't. They both know better.

They just sit side by side, sipping the blood of a thousand sacrificed grapes and make space on the sofa for a man who is always there between them.

Jake knows now what it feels like to have the President skim his hands down his arms and circle his wrists. He understands too well the weight of Fitz’s body, and the whisper of his voice when he says filthy, unprintable, things. He's learned the art of slipping off a pair of panties and spreading legs. Of taking roughly and being taken even harder. Olivia teaches him, Fitz haunts him, and somehow they all get off without being satisfied at all.

"You'll never be him," she whispers against his chest, in rapid-fire bursts of anger and guilt and affection and loss. "You'll never take his place. You will never, _ever_ come close to what we have."

"I know." He strokes his fingers through her hair, and knows she can hear his smile even if she can't see it. "I'm thankful for that every day."

He tastes Fitz on her mouth. It's impossible not to.

But he also tastes a freedom that she'll never, ever know.

 

 

\--end—

 

October 25, 2013


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